Page 33 of Illicit

I have no choice but to embrace her in all her depressing truths. Because the truth is, Rocco doesn’t want me. Not the way I want him.

I’m an adult and need to act like one. There’s no better time than the present to rip off the bandage.

When I nudge his abs with my toe, his grip on my thigh tightens. His head rolls to the other side as he stretches.

Seriously. I’d give anything to experience this under different circumstances.

More salt in the wound, but I force myself to do what’s necessary to live a not-so-depressing life.

“Roc,” I whisper.

His head rolls back in my direction, and a delicious low groan rumbles from his chest. I can even feel it from where we’re connected. When I finally get a peek of his sleepy whiskey eyes, he doesn’t move. And he definitely doesn’t take his hand from where it’s plastered high on my bare thigh.

I die a little bit more when I feel wetness pool in the new panties he bought me.

I’d rather die a slow, painful death than do what I need to.

I need to get this done.

“I’m sorry.” My apology comes out hoarse and sounds as painful as it feels.

He swallows and lifts his head, but he doesn’t let go of me. His words are groggier than mine. “For what?”

I pull in a deep breath to address the stubborn elephant in the room that’s been sitting fat and heavy between us for far too long. I was the one who invited it in, so I need to be the one to kick it out for good, no matter how much it hurts.

“I’m sorry for messing things up.”

His eyes narrow. “Is this about Robichaux? If so, I’ll figure out a way to get him to meet me alone?—”

“No, it’s not about that,” I interrupt, but I don’t move. I don’t want to. This will be my last memory of Rocco’s touch that’s anything more than friendly. Or, kill me now, even brotherly. I refuse to give it up sooner than I have to. “I’m sorry for what I did two years ago. It was a boundary I should not have crossed. I made things weird and messed everything up between us. I was angry even though you did nothing wrong. You even tried to make things right between us. It was my fault. I’m sorry.”

My apology acts as a five-alarm fire. Rocco is fully alert and shifts toward me. But instead of accepting my plea for forgiveness and letting me off the hook so we can pretend the last couple of years never happened, something smolders behind his beautiful eyes. “If you’re going to apologize for anything it better be for cutting me out of your life for so long.”

My jaw goes slack in pure shock. “I was mortified and embarrassed.”

And more than anything … hurt. Though I’m not about to admit that.

I thought he’d say thanks, bump me on the shoulder like a normal guy, and move on like any emotionally unattached man would.

That was my plan.

I counted on him doing his part.

But instead of doing any of that, Rocco’s stare on me intensifies. So much so, my heart speeds in my chest to a point my pulse echoes in my ears.

I panic.

“It was stupid,” I blurt and think back on the night that acts as a demon I just can’t shake. “No, I was stupid. Stupid and tipsy. You set me straight, and I’m over it. I’m over you.”

I didn’t think it was possible for his grip on my thigh to tighten further, but I’m wrong.

“You turned cold on me for two years, and now you’re over it? Just like that?” he growls.

“I am.” I swallow over the boulder in my throat and continue to lie. “Stupid and young and on the path to self-destruction. You didn’t mince words and called me on it. I should thank you. It was what I needed to get my shit together. In fact, I’m seeing someone.”

His eyes narrow. “That’s interesting. Because Annette gives me the lowdown on everyone, and she didn’t mention it. I bet I talk to your mom more than you do. She gives me so much information, I know how wide Sammie’s vagina is dilated. And that is shit I do not need to know.”

“My sister is pregnant, not a porn star,” I bite. “There’s nothing wrong with knowing that. The fact that pregnancy details give you the ick proves you are emotionally unattached.”

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